


if you don't know the way to hold me, let me show you how

by theagonyofblank



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bickering, F/F, Girls Kissing, Season/Series 03 Spoilers, Snark, also, or my attempt at it anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-20 17:11:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/889776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theagonyofblank/pseuds/theagonyofblank
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cora and Lydia, not getting along. Until they kind of do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if you don't know the way to hold me, let me show you how

**Author's Note:**

> Since none of the characters' ages have really been specified, I went ahead and decided that for this fic's purposes, Lydia is 17 and Cora is 19.
> 
> **Major spoilers for _Teen Wolf_ Season 3 Episode 7.**
> 
> Title is from Scissor Sisters' "Only the Horses."

*

It’s bright outside.

And inside, it’s uncomfortably warm – the floor-to-ceiling windows trap the heat inside, and her brother may be able to afford some kind of half-assed security system, but that apparently doesn’t mean he’s heard of _AC_ – and Cora wonders, not for the first time, if Derek should move.

(Large windows can only mean trouble, and to quote some sort of alternate universe, messed-up Red Riding Hood story: _All the better to see you with, my dear._ )

Cora sighs and blinks her eyes open, staring out past the dusty windowpanes and the painted symbol.

They’ve had blue skies and sunshine for the past week, but it’s far from enough to make her forget what happened with Boyd.

(They’d had a small funeral afterwards, she and Derek and Scott and Isaac, as well as their human friends. No one had said anything, not even Stiles, but that was all right.)

Who knew that all she needed to form an emotional connection with someone else was to be locked in a vault laced with hecatolite for three months? Boyd had been the closest thing she’d had to a friend, and now he was gone.

“You should go out,” Derek says as he settles onto the bed next to her – as though he’s one to talk. He hasn’t left the apartment in days, either. “See some people.”

“Right,” Cora says dully, closing her eyes again. “Because I have so many _friends_ here.”

 

 

*

Two days pass, and aside from the pack, she and Derek haven’t received any visitors.

So Cora’s surprised when she slides the door open and comes face-to-face with Lydia.

“Oh. It’s you.”

Lydia huffs. “Who else would it be?”

“Well, I wasn’t expecting company,” Cora replies, folding her arms across her chest.

“Evidently,” Lydia murmurs as she peers into the apartment.

The _very clean_ apartment, thank you very much – so Cora’s not sure what _that_ statement is supposed to mean. Cora waits, but when nothing else seems forthcoming, she supplies, “Derek’s not here.”

Lydia’s eyes flicker to the black symbol on the window before settling on Cora’s. “I was actually looking for you.”

“Really.”

“I just wanted to see if you were okay,” Lydia explains. “No one’s been manhandling me in classrooms lately, so…”

Cora smirks. “…you wanted to make sure I’d be up to the task soon?”

“Something like that.”

“As long as you’re not still seeing Aiden,” Cora shrugs. “I don’t think you’re in danger of any manhandling anytime soon.” Cora pauses, narrowing her eyes at Lydia. “You’re not still seeing him, are you?”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

“Just because you haven’t seen me around doesn’t mean I won’t make good on ripping your tongue out.”

“Yes, you’re a big scary wolf,” Lydia states as she turns away impatiently, apparently satisfied that Cora’s fine.

“No,” Cora corrects as Lydia walks away. “ _He_ is.”

Lydia sticks her chin out. “I can handle myself.”

Cora watches her until she turns the corner before sliding the door shut, leaning her head against it briefly.

Lydia’s going to be more trouble than she’s worth, and something tells Cora that she’ll have to pay a visit to the school very, very soon.

 

 

*

Derek texts her on a Saturday afternoon – something about squirrels going on a warpath.

Only in Beacon Hills would squirrels ever be the center of a problem.

“It’s the Alpha pack,” Derek says when she gets there ten minutes later, his arm around Jennifer. The windows in the diner are completely smashed through, and glass litters the pavement. “They’re driving the animals crazy.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Take Jennifer home.”

Cora is about to protest – since when is she the chauffeur? – but Derek is staring at someone behind her, and when Cora follows his gaze, she frowns at the two teenagers standing near the diner entrance. Without waiting for a response, she stalks towards Aiden and Lydia.

Aiden’s talking to the police officer, and Cora takes the opportunity to pull Lydia away.

“What is it now, Cora?”

“I’m taking you home.”

“You can’t just—”

“I’m taking Jennifer home,” Cora interrupts, watching as her brother approaches Aiden shortly after the cop leaves, placing a hand on his shoulder. She tenses for a moment, expecting the boy to lash out, but when all he does is shrug Derek’s hand off, she focuses back on Lydia. “I might as well take you, too.”

Cora unlocks her car and waits as Jennifer gets in, before turning to Lydia, who hasn’t moved an inch. She sighs, drumming her fingers against the trunk. “Look, get in or don’t get in – it’s your choice. But something tells me Aiden’s occupied right now, and I’m guessing he’s the one who drove you here.”

Cora tries not to smirk when Lydia slides into the backseat.

Score one for Team Cora.

Not that she’s keeping track.

 

 

*

The universe seems intent on bringing Cora and Lydia together.

By “the universe,” she mainly just means her brother.

It kind of sucks.

“If you’re going to sulk,” Lydia begins, flipping through a dusty old book. “Can you do it somewhere else? Your terrible mood is distracting.”

“Have you found it, or not?” Cora replies, blatantly ignoring Lydia.

Lydia responds by reaching over to the large stack of dusty books, plucking the topmost one, and setting it down in front of Cora.

Cora raises a brow.

“I’m a genius, not a reading machine. We won’t be stuck here the whole day if you help me. You _can_ read, right?”

“I wasn’t raised in a cave,” Cora mutters darkly, grudgingly pulling the book towards her.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Cora glares at her, but Lydia’s already engrossed in the task at hand, and after a few moments, Cora heaves a sigh and turns her attention back to the text in front of her.

It’s going to be a long night.

And unfortunately for her, not the fun kind.

 

 

*

A daytime romp in the woods is not exactly her idea of fun, but Derek was insistent.

“Jennifer’s out here somewhere,” he had said, but all Cora heard was, _Humans are needy and defenseless._

Still, he’s her brother, and there’s very little she wouldn’t do for him.

Including, it turns out, getting shot in the shoulder. She’s not even doing anything that really warrants getting shot, except maybe, you know, _looking for Jennifer_. She thinks she catches a movement out of the corner of her eye as she reaches up and pulls the arrow out and tosses it to the ground.

If this is the doing of that damned Argent girl—

“Holy shit!”

 _Of course_ it’s Stiles. She growls. “You’d better have a good explanation for this, Stilinski.”

“It was an accident!”

“Sorry,” comes Allison, as she steps out from behind a tree. Cora notices Lydia right next to her. “We thought it’d be a good idea for Stiles to…” She trails off, mimicking the action of shooting a crossbow.

“ _And_ you were standing in front of our target practice,” Lydia adds.

Cora turns around and sees the red tape in the shape of an ‘x’ on the tree. “Well,” she says gruffly, pressing a hand to her shoulder. “Pick another tree.”

“What are you doing out here, anyway?”

Cora frowns at Lydia. “I could ask you guys the same thing.”

“Target practice,” Lydia says slowly, as though she’s talking to a small child. She pauses. “You’re not going to tell us, are you?”

“Nope,” Cora says as she moves to leave.

“We can help you,” Stiles offers, literally perking up at the idea. “Are you looking for something?”

Cora sighs. “I’d rather not—”

“It’ll only go faster with help,” Lydia points out.

And though more does not equate to merrier in Cora’s eyes, she gives in. (It’s always easier to give in where these three are involved.) “Fine. Martin, come with me. Argent, you and Stilinski go west, towards the road. We’re looking for the teacher.”

“Miss Blake is missing?”

“Why do I have to go with you?”

“Yes, she is, and if you don’t want to come with me, stay with your friends.” She gives Allison a once-over. “Take your crossbow with you, and shoot anyone who looks remotely suspicious.”

“Must explain why I shot you,” Stiles mumbles under his breath.

Cora doesn’t bother with a response, choosing instead to continue the way she was going before she got shot.

She hears Lydia following her, the crunching of leaves and quiet breathing dead giveaways, and after a few minutes of this, she stops in her tracks. “I thought you were going with your friends.”

Lydia stops next to her. “I changed my mind.”

 

 

*

It takes them a few hours and a lot of bickering, but they find Jennifer.

Alone and tied to a tree, bruised but otherwise unharmed.

Afterwards, Cora walks Lydia back to her car – just in case.

(It was either that or riding the entire way home watching Derek and Jennifer be complete idiots about their great love or whatever, so this was definitely the less eye-roll-inspiring option.)

“I can take care of myself,” Lydia states matter-of-factly.

“Never said you couldn’t.”

“You’re certainly acting like it.”

“Maybe I just—”

“I can make a Molotov cocktail.”

“Out of sticks and leaves?”

“I can make a Molotov cocktail,” Lydia repeats. “So I’m pretty sure I’m fine on my own.”

“I’ll be sure to call you if I ever need one,” Cora snorts. “And for the record, I was just going to say that I kind of need a ride back into town.” Which isn’t a complete lie.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

 

 

*

A week passes, and she bumps into Lydia and Aiden while running errands.

She frowns, ignoring the strange feeling in her gut, but says nothing about it.

She feels Lydia’s eyes boring holes into the back of her skull until she exits the store.

 

 

*

Lydia corners her at her car.

“Are you checking up on me now?”

Cora knows that if she weren’t a werewolf, the grip Lydia has on her wrist would bruise. “No.”

“Because it sure looks like it.”

“Look,” Cora says, wrenching her hand out of Lydia’s grasp. “I have better things to do than to stalk you and your boyfriend.”

“He’s not—”

“I’ve already warned you that he’s bad news. Date him, don’t date him. But don’t come running to me when he hurts someone.”

She slams her car door with extra force, pretending not to notice the look on Lydia’s face.

If she’s in a foul mood for the rest of the day, she blames it on the shitty weather.

 

 

*

The days are starting to get shorter and colder, and Stiles decides it’s high time for a picnic in the park.

(Cora’s never been one for babysitting, but neither Scott nor Isaac could make it… which left the job to her. Sometimes, she really thinks she needs to expand her social circle so she can’t be roped into these things at the last minute.)

Lydia is propped up on her elbows, reading some quantum mechanics textbook – and Cora’s pretty sure that’s advanced college-level stuff, but she doesn’t bother to ask. It’s not like they’ve been on speaking terms since Lydia accosted her in the parking lot. And even if they were, it’s not like they’d ever been friends.

Cora tries not to let it bother her, and tosses a football around with Stiles and Allison.

It helps take her mind off of things for a little while, but of course, as soon as she realizes this, the ball goes sailing over her head, and in her attempt to catch it, she has somehow managed to land directly on Lydia.

She can’t make this shit up.

“You know,” Lydia starts, glaring up at Cora. “You have a very strange way of trying to get my attention.”

“Well,” Cora replies flippantly, trying not to notice the way the younger girl is shifting against her. “Since you obviously don’t take threats very seriously…”

“…you thought tackling me to the ground should do the job?”

Cora shrugs as she gets to her feet, not bothering to check if Lydia’s actually okay. She'll live, at any rate, and that would have to do. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“Wait,” Lydia has this glint in her eye, as though she’s just realized something, and Cora suddenly doesn’t like where this something is going. “Is _that_ it? You have some kind of wolf-boner for me? Because if that’s the case, you really need to step up your seduction techniques.”

She doesn’t _actually_ know how Lydia managed to jump to _that_ conclusion, but—

“Don’t flatter yourself, Martin,” Cora snaps.

Her defensive tone takes them both by surprise, but before Lydia can form a proper retort, Cora bends over to grab the football and jogs back towards Stiles and Allison.

She feigns indifference when Lydia doesn’t spare her a single glance for the rest of the afternoon and only talks around her and not _to_ her, because since when has she cared about whether or not Lydia gives her a second thought?

 

 

*

The beginning of October brings with it a whole host of high school parties.

Cora’s two years too old for this shit, but someone needs to keep an eye on the Wonder Twins, and big surprise: that someone is her.

So here she is, at John something-or-another’s party, staring down any minor who has a red cup in his or her hand.

Which just so happens to be _everyone_ , so her job is pretty easy.

(But honestly, how these kids get their alcohol is a mystery to her. She’s _nineteen_ and she can only guess at how they managed to purchase all this booze.)

At least Scott and Isaac are there this time in case anything goes awry; in case of emergency, three pairs of claws are always more useful than one.

“Lighten up,” some kid comes up to her at one point, bouncing along to the music. “Have a drink.”

Cora glares at him until he goes away.

Sometime around midnight, Lydia finds her.

It’s also possible that she’s the one who finds Lydia, but the point is that two seconds ago, the younger girl was nowhere to be seen, and then the next thing she knows, everything is Lydia – from the hands on her shoulders to the head tucked under her chin to this really awkward hug she’s being subjected to right now.

She stiffly pats Lydia on the back.

“Okay,” she breathes in and then out again as she pulls away, and gestures to the wine coolers. “How many of these have you had?”

“Five,” Lydia literally _giggles_ , which is just weird and wrong. “Maybe eight.”

“How about we go easy on the alcohol?” Cora suggests.

Lydia is leaning into her again, and when she mumbles something, Cora doesn’t catch it.

“What?”

“I’m going home,” Lydia says, louder this time, and she starts looking through her purse. “Here.” Lydia dangles her car keys in front of her. “You drive.” And then, almost as an afterthought, “Please.”

“I brought my car,” Cora raises her voice to be heard over the music.

“Oh,” Lydia replies, as she returns her keys to her purse and allows Cora to lead her away. “Okay.”

The drive over is relatively quiet – punctuated only by fist-pumps and Lydia yelling, “Onward!” every time the stoplight turned green, and Cora’s not amused, really, she’s not – and they arrive at the Martin household within twenty minutes. Cora lets the engine idle, but when it becomes obvious that Lydia’s going to need some help getting out, she sighs and shuts off the car.

“Come on,” she says, opening the passenger’s side and unbuckling Lydia’s seatbelt. She wraps an arm around her waist and makes a mental note to herself never to go to a high school party ever again. “Baby steps.”

Cora leans against the doorframe while Lydia unlocks the door, and just as she’s about to leave, she’s stopped by Lydia’s hand on hers.

“What?”

Lydia leans in and suddenly there’s the briefest press of lips against her own.

When she opens her eyes, the door is shut and Lydia is gone and she’s left with the taste of cherries on her lips.

 

*

 _That_ was unexpected.

(And more importantly, when did her life turn into a fucking high school movie?)

 

 

*

Things return to normal after that.

That is to say, Lydia stops not-talking to her.

Cora still sees her around town – sometimes with Stiles or Allison or even Scott, sometimes just with Aiden.

Each time, they’re perfectly civil to each other.

A week passes, and Cora almost forgets the kiss happened.

 

 

*

(Once – just once – a day or two after the party, Cora catches herself watching Lydia.

And by the look on Stiles’ face, she wasn’t the only one who caught herself doing it.

Later, once the meeting’s over and done with, he comes up to her.

“Listen—”

“Save it, boy genius.”

“I haven’t even—”

“Just don’t.”

It’s embarrassing enough longing for someone she didn’t even know she wanted; she doesn’t need to hear the words out loud to know how stupid she’s being.)

 

 

*

Cora’s in the bookstore leafing through some used books when someone grabs onto her elbow. Cora doesn’t have to look to know that it’s Lydia, and she allows herself to be led to a quieter corner of the shop.

“Can I help you?” Cora asks dryly.

“Maybe,” Lydia says, regarding her with narrowed eyes.

“Well?” Cora prompts, gesturing for her to get on with it.

“I kissed you,” Lydia states.

Cora’s not expecting a direct confrontation – but then again, maybe she _should_ have; this _is_ Lydia she’s dealing with – and she has to do a double-take before settling on a simple, “I remember.”

Lydia looks at her in disbelief. “That’s it? You remember?”

Cora raises an eyebrow. “Is there something in particular I should be saying?”

“Oh my god, you really _were_ raised by wolves.”

Cora ignores the stinging remark, because she suddenly _gets it._ She knows what to do.

And it’s kind of nice, knowing that she’s not alone in feeling whatever it is she’s feeling.

“Astute observation,” Cora murmurs absent-mindedly, lips curving into a grin as she trails a hand up to Lydia’s hip. She steps completely into her space, grin widening when Lydia’s breath hitches at the movement. Resting her forehead against Lydia’s, she takes a deep breath in, allowing Lydia to flood her senses. “This _must_ be why you’re the smart one. Do you want a gold star?”

“No,” Lydia shakes her head, hooking her fingers through Cora’s belt loops and tugging forward. There’s a millisecond of silence in which Cora can hear Lydia’s heartbeat, steady and strong and pounding in rhythm with her own, and when she opens her mouth to speak, she’s silenced by Lydia’s finger against her lips. “Shut up and kiss me.”

And so Cora does.

 

 

*


End file.
